Dead Man Walking
by TimelessTears
Summary: AU. Four modern day treasure hunters check out an old broken down Manor. Too bad its vauluables weren't the only things waiting for them. WARNING: Character death and gore.


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Disclaimer: I do not own D. Gray-Man. If you don't like gore or character death then don't read.

* * *

_No joy, no love,_

_Like a ghost, he lingered in the doorway,_

_Blood on his shirt and eyes so blank,_

_I could not escape, I could not escape._

* * *

"This house is really old." Linalee mumbled to herself as she brushed her hand against the rotten wood of a once well made wall. Seeing a hallway that was adjacently connected to the wall, she peered curiously down its darkened path before heading back toward the front door. Outside two people were taking equipment out of the back of a pickup truck, as another climbed up the stairs to meet her.

"How's the inside look?" Ravi asked as he shuffled through some papers.

"I haven't gone far, but it doesn't look too good. The woods rotting pretty bad."

"That's not surprising," Ravi said, clicking his tongue. "Gramps said it was pretty old." He moved away from the door to allow Kanda to move through as he carried four metal detectors. Miranda followed with a box filled with a special cleaner, cloths, and gloves. Ravi and Linalee followed until the group reached what appeared to be a living room. There, Kanda and Miranda set down the gear.

The four were modern day treasure hunters. They are employees of the Black Order- which is an organization focused on recovering valuable artifacts. Though they did not get as good of pay, as they should have, they weren't hurting for money either.

"Let's see what Gramps gave us this time." Ravi whistled out, referring to their boss as he looked at the top paper in his hands. "Walker Manor: Built in the 1800's with Victorian décor. Manufactured and owned by one Mana Walker until his death." He read out loud.

"Who was the last person to live here?" Kanda asked in disgust as he took in the condition of the wall paper and carpet.

"Why? You gonna go hunt them down and kill them for being a terrible cleaner?" Ravi asked in amusement as he looked through the papers to find the answer.

"Yes." Kanda said seriously.

"I'll be sure to visit you in prison. Remember to stay away from the big muscular guys, don't want you to become someone's. . .huh? That's weird." Ravi said in confusion while looking at one of the papers.

"Who's the last owner Ravi?" Kanda bit out in irritation.

"The last owner was the first." This made everyone stop and look at him.

"What?"

"Yeah, I mean, I know this place would cost a pretty penny for someone with an average income- 'cause despite it falling apart on the inside, it is in good shape. Still, any millionaire or billionaire could have bought this place without denting their wallets; and everyone knows they like collecting manors and estates." Ravi finished, still looking a little lost.

"Y-You don't think anything's wrong with it, d-do you?" Miranda asked in a shaky voice, her eyes darting back and forth as if expecting something to attack her. Linalee, who had been looking at a dusty-but elegant- mirror that was hanging on the wall, turned and smiled at Miranda.

"Don't worry. I'm sure nothing's wrong with the manor."

"Linalee's right. 'Sides, there's no use in worrying over it. C'mon guys according the blueprints Gramps gave me, the dining area is through this hallway.

The other three followed him, their backs facing the mirror. Had any of them bothered to turn around, they would have found the mirror to be inexplicably clean. . .

. . .and perhaps they would have caught a glimpse of the face that, for a brief second, flashed on its surface.

* * *

_Pale child,_

_So young and frail,_

_As pure as light; as sad as a shattered smile._

_I could not escape._

* * *

Linalee shivered in her sleeping bag, as she turned once again on the floor. The group had decided to camp out in the living room because the beds, while still standing, did not look stable or comfortable. That, and moths had taken over the bedding anyway. They had been here for a few days to test the houses durability and even though she had reassured Miranda earlier that nothing was wrong with the house, she could not shake the feeling that she was being watched from the shadows in the corner of the dark room as the others snored softly. _Stop being childish Linalee! _She scolded herself. _This place is __**not**__ haunted. You know old houses like this are eerie at night. _Reassured and calmed by this logic, she finally let sleep take her.

But she could've sworn she'd heard someone softly singing a lullaby in the distance.

* * *

_There's vomit on the floor,_

_There's blood on the walls,_

_So much weeping, so much gore,_

_Rage filled words and broken china dolls,_

_I could not escape._

_. . . I could not escape._

* * *

"This place is amazing." Linalee whispered in wonder as she took in the room. The treasure hunters were settled and had begun doing their job. Since the place was so big, they split up and explored each room separately to work faster. It was Ravis' genius idea to write down names on paper and draw them out of an old top hat he'd found in a side closet. She had drawn the Library.

"Whoa guys," She faintly heard Ravi through the walkie talkie strapped to her hip. "I just found this huge vase made entirely out of pure jade! This thing's taller than me! It's got to be worth at least three hundred thousand; probably more." Linalee shook her head in wonder, not at Ravi's discovery, but at what was around her.

The Library was a giant square room that with the exception of two bay windows and the double doors leading in was entirely lined with books. All the walls and there were shelves in the middle of the room that, from a bird's eye view, turned the room into a perfect gridline.

With perfect books to boot.

Linalee gently dragged her fingers along the spines of the books as she walked deeper into the room. Stopping to examine the books closer, she almost squeal in delight; most of these books were 1st Editions, extremely rare and mostly in mint condition. Once again her mind wondered back to ponder on the reason why no one bothered to come here before. This place was almost literality a gold mine! Trying to come up with a logical reason as she carefully put the books back-

Thump.

Startled, she whirled around, expecting to find Ravi laughing at being able to sneak up on her.

But all that was there was a small book on the floor.

Cautiously, she walked over to it, before bending down and picking it up. Its condition was far worse than the other books. The pages were dog eared and the cover was worn down, about to fall apart from the spine. The title had worn away, leaving her to carefully look through the book to discover its subject. Turning to one of the old yellow pages, she smiled slightly as she read the tiny script.

"_I saw a mouse chase a cat, saw the cheese eat a rat."_

Why it was poetry! Turning to another page, her happiness dipped slightly when she read:

_I saw three headless men playing at a ball,  
A handless man served them all.  
While three mouthless men laughed,  
Three legless men from them ran. _

Feeling slightly creeped out, she turned to another page hoping to find a nicer poem-

_One fine day in the middle of the night,_

_Two __**dead**__ boys got up to fight,_

_Back to back they faced each other,_

_Drew their swords and shot each other,_

_One was blind and the other couldn't, see_

_So they chose the __**devil**__ for a referee._

_A blind man went to see fair play,_

_A mute man went to shout "hooray!"_

_A paralysed donkey passing by,_

_Kicked the blind man in the eye,_

_Knocked him through a nine inch wall,_

_Into a dry ditch and __**drowned**__ them all,_

_A deaf policeman heard the noise,_

_And came and __**killed**__ the two dead boys,_

_If you don't believe this story's true,_

_Ask the blind man he saw it too!_

Her eyes couldn't look away from the words. Granted much worse poetry had been written about more sinister things, yet she couldn't help but feel horrified. It was then that a strong breeze came through the place causing the pages to turn rapidly. _That's not possible, _She thought, turning to look at the windows- both were tightly shut.

As suddenly as it came, the wind left.

But the temperature dropped rapidly.

_This is too weird, I have to get out of here! _She would've ran back out those doors, down the stairs and right out of the house.

But two very cold hands-much colder than the temperature- had clamped tightly on to her shoulders.

Scared stiff, the only thing that stopped her from screaming at the top of her lungs was the mantra in her head. _This is not real, this isn't real, thisisn'trealit itisn'treal, it's not, it'snot!_

The soft breath that blew past her ear said otherwise.

"Look down."

It was said in a gentle tone, but Linalee still heard the command underneath it. Here frighten eyes swiveled down to the book still clutched in her now numb hands. The wind had turned it a blank page. A blank _white _that should not have been among the faded pages. That fact was the farthest things from her mind as she watched two words appear in red before turning a violent black.

_**Get Out.**_

This is where Linalee screamed, dropped the book, fiercely escaped those very cold hands and ran towards the doors (which, by some stroke of luck, opened easily) before racing to find one of the others, completely forgetting her walkie talkie and the tears streaming down her face.

No doubt she would have found one her friends in no time flat, but because of her panic, she forgot about the decaying wood and hit a weak spot in the floor board, causing her leg to go through and her to fall.

She tried frantically to get free but she only achieved in making it worse by causing some of the wood to dig deeper into her flesh. A hand caressed her cheek and she turned towards it, hoping it was one of her friends.

Brilliant chrome-blue eyes stared back and red lips stretched into a smile on his pale face. Equally pale hair sat atop his head. He could've been call handsome, exotic even, if it weren't for the dried blood on his out of date clothing and the bruising around his neck that looked like fingers.

He didn't seem like a vengeful spirit. He looked the part, but his face said a different story.

So did his words.

"I'm sorry." He told her in a docile manner as his hands traveled to her throat. His eyes were sad when he spoke again.

"Your times up." With the quick turn of his hands, he snapped her neck.

She didn't scream.

Dead bodies never do.

* * *

_Just a lonely little boy,_

_Who loved and followed a man,_

_With hidden violent tendencies,_

_With whom he could not escape._

* * *

Miranda walked around the room filled with lovely instruments. Harps, violins, cellos, and percussion sets were all neatly set in the room. Sadly they were all lost causes due to rust and rot.

Except for the Grand Piano.

And grand it was, Miranda thought. It was a pearly white, evenly balanced, and had been taken extremely well cared for by the owner when he was alive. Any pianist would have loved to play it. They would have had the perfect lighting from the priceless chandelier that hung directly above it. She pressed down on one of the keys and winced at the sound. Beautiful thought it was, it needed a tune up.

"Linalee? Are you there? Why aren't you responding?" Ravi's voice filtered out through the radio.

"Linalee's not responding?" Miranda asked nervously. She felt guilty since she had been so wrapped in her work and hadn't noticed.

"Not in the last twenty minutes. Can you go check on her? You're the closest to the library."

"O-of course."

Miranda did not like this place at all. Despite the reassurances that it was not haunted, she had felt eyes staring at the back of her head and had heard muffled steps from upstairs when they had all gone to sleep last night. She loved her friends though, and felt that since they did not believe it then she was probably imagining things. Like that Grand Father clock in the corner.

She did a double take.

_That was not there before! Was it? Maybe it was…no! I know it wasn't!_

Keeping her eyes on the clock, she slowly walked backwards toward the door.

**BANG!**

Frozen with fright, she barely had enough courage to turn her head towards the door, and was relieved to see no one inside with her.

That changed when she saw the door lock itself with a solid "_click_".

Heaven help her, this place was haunted!

She grabbed her radio and began to speak rapidly. "Ravi, please come help! This place is haunted! Please, I know you don't believe me, but…"

No response.

"Kanda, please, can you hear me? I'm in trouble, I'm really scared! PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME HERE!"

No response.

"Linalee. . ." Miranda trailed off, a feeling of very deep dread rose up in her when she looked at the walkie talkie.

The battery was dead. Which shouldn't be possible, because it was charged and at full power just minutes ago.

The clock chimed.

And the instruments began to play- by themselves.

No longer caring about staying calm, she ran to the door and tried to unlock the door, but the lock was rusted over and wouldn't budge. Valiantly, she still tried to get free, and began banging on the door screaming for help.

"It's no use." A calm voice said from behind. Miranda once again turned around pressing her back against the door.

He sat at the piano looking deliciously macabre as he played an old love ballad. Blood ran down both him and the piano, contrasting brilliantly with the white of his flesh and the instrument he so skillfully played.

"I-I'm g-going to d-dd-die, aren't I" She asked him shakily, as she slid to the floor, the tears pouring like no tomorrow, blurring her vision. "Y-you're going to kill me."

He stopped playing, and immediately so did the other instruments.

"Yes." Was all he said.

"N-not just me. B-but all of us. L-like p-poor Linalee."

"You make it sound like I'm some serial killer." Came the light reply.

"A-Aren't y-you?"

"Serial killers go after their victims. _You_came here on your own _free _will. Technically speaking, you're trespassing where you don't belong."

She really didn't have a response for that.

It was then that he stood up and slowly swaggered over to her, still speaking.

"I gave you and your friends plenty of warnings from slamming doors, mysterious footsteps, flickering candles and cold rooms-among other things. Did you heed them? NO!" He shouted the last word, causing her shiver. While listening to him speak, she didn't feel the piano strings that had wiggled across the floor on their own free will, tie themselves around her ankles and wrists tight enough to cut into her flesh until she noticed the blood surrounding her.

"Please! I swear we'll leave. We won't come back-or even tell! I promise!" She begged him as he came to a stop. Bending down to her level he gently wiped away some of the tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Don't be like that, please." It took Miranda a moment to realize that her would be killer was also crying.

"Please don't think I'm a monster. Please don't hate me." He asked her as he tied a piano string around her neck, making a make-shift noose.

"You don't want to do this!" She gasped out in shock.

"I have too. . ."

"No you don't! Really!"

"You don't understand! I can't speak about it! If I do I have to start all over again, and I don't think I can do that."

Miranda didn't know what he was talking about, but he sounded so sad and hurt that she just wanted to comfort him. Strange, so very strange, considering the situation.

"All right, kill me." She said softly as he dragged her over to the piano and sat her on top of it before climbing on as well.

"I really am sorry."

"I know; I can tell." How bizarre, she thought to herself, all her life fear had been her constant companion yet she couldn't feel it anywhere.

"May I at least know your name?" She asked as he tied part of the piano string to the chandelier. He sat down next to her and gave her the saddest smile she'd ever seen.

"It's Allen." And with that he pushed her off the piano.

A simple _snap, _then the slight sound of a swaying body accompanied by the pitter-patter of blood became the melody to fill the room.

Her eyes were closed and that old grandfather clock in the corner began to chime.

Miranda Lott died without fear.

* * *

_My, my, how you've grown,_

_I've missed so much._

_And you don't seem happy about that._

_You're not going to let me escape are you?_

_. . .of course not._

* * *

"Dang, first Linalee and now Miranda- what the heck is going on?" Ravi questioned out loud.

"Hey Yu, can you hear me?" He talked into the radio.

". . .Yes." Came the grunted reply and Ravi sighed in relief.

"At least I haven't lost you. Maybe it's because Miranda and Linalee are on the other side of the house."

"Look, can you shut up? I'm trying to work here!"

"Ah, my bad." Ravi grinned, clipping the walkie talkie back onto his belt.

He was in what appeared to be an office. There was a desk in the corner covered with papers and ink bottles. One of the walls had a bookshelf propped against it as well as some pictures. There was also an overstuffed chair by the books accompanied by a tiny table and candle.

One picture showed a man and a young boy standing next to each other. The man had his hand propped onto the boys shoulder. While the man was rather plain looking, the boy had an interesting scar on the left side of his face. Both were smiling, which was odd because back then it was considered rude to be smiling in a photograph. Ravi noticed there was a small plaque attached to the bottom of the frame.

_Sir Mana Walker and Allen Walker._

"Whoa." Ravi breathed out. "I didn't know this guy had a kid! Wonder what happened." He said, remembering the report stating that Mana Walker was the last owner of the house. He looked back at the picture-at those smiling faces, forever frozen- before looking at some of the other photographs that were on the wall. They all showed either Mana or Allen Walker. Sometimes they were together and other times there was only one of them in the picture.

Except for one.

It was hidden in the shadows and a good bit smaller so Ravi almost missed it. Carefully, he took it down to get a better view and almost dropped the picture when he read the plaque.

_The Millennium Earl, the Noah Clan, and Sir Mana and Allen Walker._

Ravi didn't actually need to read the plaque to tell who the Earl and the Noah's were. They were important figures in history and any child who'd gone to school would have known them. In fact, the Noah's descendents were extremely rich and influential. They also closely resembled their ancestors. So much, in fact, that Ravi would have believed them to be twins.

"Weird." He said with a shudder as he hung the picture up. Deciding he'd had enough time looking at the photos, he focused on the bookcase. Quickly picking out a book that simply said 'Memories' on the spine, he sat in the chair and flipped through the pages.

Most of them simply held pictures of Allen Walker. Every now and then he'd come across a newspaper clipping and see Allens' name underlined in ink. No doubt Mana was being a good father and simply filled these pages to remember his child.

That notion flew out the door when Ravi reached the last page on the book.

It wasn't a small clipping, oh no. It was the whole front page of a newspaper screaming out the words _'WALKER HEIR MYSTEROUISLY FOUND DEAD!' _. Right underneath was a picture of a mangled body as well as the beginning of the article: _Sir Mana Walker came home from a business trip on May 9th, to find his only son and heir, Allen Walker, dead in the bathtub fully clothed with signs of strangulation. At this time, no suspects have been found. . ."_

"What a thing to come home too." Ravi said sadly as he closed the book and began to put it back on the shelf- when a paper slipped out and fell on the floor. Sighing tiredly, he bent down and picked it up. He was just going to place it back in the book, but his head did a double take when he glanced at the words on the paper.

_**Necromancer's Spell- **__This spell grants the dead another chance at living. The deceased can be brought back __only __by someone who loved them. To do so, the loved one must set up a ritual consisting of. . ."_

"Dang. This guy was really torn up of his kids' death." Ravi breathed out loud.

"It's true. He was so torn up, one could say he'd gone insane. Were he in a lucid state of mind, he would've realized I'd never wanted this. Greif does cloud judgment."

"Yeah." Ravi said in reply, still looking at the paper.

"The Earl is the one who gave him that book. I don't think he ever really liked father. . .or me for that matter. Father never would have done this to me if he had known how dark that spell was. He only read what the Earl wanted him to see."

"What! That's so immoral. . ." Ravi trailed, realizing that he'd been conversing with someone. He began to turn around, words forming in his mouth.

"Who-" he never finished because halfway in his turn, he was hit in the side of the head with a heavy object. Hard enough, so that he knew that the '_crack!'_ he'd heard could not be good. He was hit a few more times in the head; each bow harder than the last before he realized this person wasn't letting up anytime soon. He tried to fight back, but he was so dizzy and nauseous that standing-let alone fighting was impossible. Also the fact that blood had clouded most of his vision was a big problem too. Finally, the blows stopped, but the tension in the air told him that his killer was gearing up for the final blow. He didn't know what to expect so he shut his eyes tight.

"I'm sorry." Came a tiny voice from above. "But if you'd read the rest of the description of the spell you'd understand." Ravi's eyes snapped open; even with all the blood in them, he was able to a blur of white. . .

Before his life ended with a sickening '_crunch!'._

Allen just walked away, leaving a bloody hammer next to the body.

And on the floor a piece of paper rested near a cooling hand.

_. . .the spell binds the soul to the place of sacrifice. There it will remain until it reaps the allotted souls that the spell binder requested. The spellbinder is then used as the actual sacrifice to keep the spirit anchored in this world. However, once it has completed its task it will be set free._

Poor Mana was told that the number specified was the number of years he wanted his child to live. So when he put down 102 he meant well.

He just wanted his on to have a long and happy life.

* * *

_A little child,_

_Who just wanted candy,_

_Like a lamb to the slaughter I went,_

_So naive and gullible,_

_. . .I could not escape._

_It's laughable really._

* * *

Kanda snorted as he looked around the room. It was filled with different weapons, swords mostly, but there was an axe and a crossbow spotted by his sharp eyes. Clearly, Mana Walker had enjoyed collecting things.

_But he was pretty stupid!_ Kanda thought in anger looking at the rusting samurai swords hanging on the racks. The sheathes weren't even on them! It was disgraceful. Honestly, it was as if he was only showing them off and had no actual in the swords themselves. Which wouldn't be shocking; people-the rich especially- always bought things to show off their wealth. It was completely stupid, and now some very valuable artifacts were ruined. By incompetence no less, che.

Opening up one of the many cabinets, he looked inside and smirked. Maybe Mana Walker wasn't as incompetent as he first assumed. The weapons inside the cabinet were not only properly sheath, they were also in cases to help protect from water and termite damage. Opening up one of the cases, he carefully caressed the blade before taking it out of the container. Expertly, he did a series of moves to test how well the blade was before putting it back. He did this with all the swords in the cabinet before putting them back. As he closed the cabinet, he sighed in annoyance when he heard muffled footsteps behind him.

"Ravi! How many do I have to tell you, you it's impossible to sneak up on me?!" Kanda spat out as he turned around.

Then Kanda lost his head.

Literality.

Allen sighed as he looked at the decapitated corpse on the floor, before dropping the sword. "I'm sorry." He mumbled.

"Tee-hee, hee! Good job my little pet." A voice spoke out from the shadows. Out stepped the Millennium Earl, followed by Rhode and Tikky Mik.

"Shut up!" Allen snapped at him. "There, a hundred and two souls all accounted for. Now release me." He stated coldly.

"Aw don't be mean Allen!" Rhode whined to him. "C'mon, didn't you have fun? I know I would've had fun! That Chinese girl would've made a pretty doll. Admit it; it was fun."

"No." Allen said as Tikky began to smoke a cigarette.

"I must say, it took you quite awhile to kill those souls. You started in what? 1809? 1810? It's 2009 now, what took so long?"

"I don't like killing people, and this place isn't famous." Allen said with a glare.

"Hmm, I think you should start over. You almost gave it away to the girl in the music room and the boy with the red hair. Nice touch, by the way, with the piano strings; any serial killer would've been proud."

"Shut up! I am not starting over, and I did not tell either of them anything of importance! I've done what you've asked, now release me."

"Tee-hee! You're right of course, you have done what I've asked. As promised you will be released. Right before the three left, The Earl looked over his shoulder.

"Oh, and Allen? You wrong. _I do like you._" He then mumbled the incantation for release before vanishing.

A bright light surrounded Allen; and he smiled before fading from existence.

The Walker Manor collapsed completely in on itself.

And four treasure hunters had an article in the paper about their bravery to go into such a place.

Such is life sometimes.

* * *

_I could not escape._

_Neither could you._

* * *

End.

**A/N: This is the longest thing I have ever written! I hope you liked it. If you didn't then, oh well. I don't know anything about witchcraft or spells, so that spell was made up. Sorry if the poem annoyed people. The only poem I own is the one with the "I could not escape." All others are very old and belong to someone who' s not me.**

**Hope you enjoyed!**


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